


Two-Way Mirror

by Platinumroyal



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Enstars Secret Santa 2018, M/M, mostly one-sided on tsumugi's part, vague eimugi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 22:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17232068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Platinumroyal/pseuds/Platinumroyal
Summary: It's colder than Tsumugi had imagined.//Written for the Enstars Secret Santa 2018!





	Two-Way Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This fic is a gift for @tennplate on twitter for the Enstars Secret Santa. I hope you enjoy!!

He never has taken to the cold very well.

Tsumugi is aware of this, of course. He remembers, the moment he steps outside of Yumenosaki's grand entryway and into the frigid December air, the countless nights he spent in his childhood, curled up in his thin futon blanket to keep the chill at bay. It always managed to seep into his bones, no matter how snuggly he hid under the covers, or how closely he sat to their sole electric heater (they bought it used from a cheap thrift store, after his mother had exhausted from hearing his complaints of the cold. Tsumugi was never sure if she got it to actually make their one-room apartment a little more bearable, or just to get him to stop—either way, it shut him up). Compared to the cozy warmth of the underground archive room, insulated and strictly temperature-controlled thanks to the hundreds of old books, the air outside is almost intolerable. Tsumugi feels an invisible pull, threatening to drag him back into the confines of the school, but manages to resist. Every weather forecast and news report had warned of severe snowstorms later that evening. He had even cross-checked his usual horoscope sources, and all of them had spelled out things like  _danger_ and  _at risk from the unknown_  and  _something unexpected will greet you at nightfall_. He adorned his schoolbag with weather-protecting charms and ornaments, on top of his usual fare of lucky items, but not much would save him from being stranded in the middle of a blizzard. And so, he had to hurry back home. Now that he thinks of it, he should probably text his mother and remind her to turn the heat back on, if she's even home…

Tsumugi fishes around in his bag for his phone, rifling through schoolbooks and sewing supplies and a whole rainbow of colored pens. His phone isn't the biggest thing—it's an older model from a few years ago that works perfectly fine for him—but it could be a little hard to find, and especially when he was specifically looking for it. His fingertips finally brush against the plastic casing, and he pulls it out to send his mother a quick message ( _I'll be home in a half hour, please remember to turn the heat on_ _😊)_  before sliding it back into the abyss of his bag. A gust of wind blows past him, blistering cold, and he adjusts his knit scarf to better cover his face. Just a few more minutes of walking before he could treat himself to taking the bus home. Usually, he would just go home by foot, as he doesn’t mind the commute and the money is better spent in other ways, but the chill is eating away it him more than he thought it would earlier that day.

In the distance, he can hear the soft clamor of voices and music. Normally, the school would be deserted at this time in the evening; it is hard for most students to resist the temptation of heading home when it gets dark so early. There must have been an event scheduled for today, Tsumugi reasons, as the noise seems to originate in the general direction of the auditorium. He recalls, briefly, that some of his classmates had been discussing the Starry Night Festival for a week or two now. None of Switch had signed on to take part in the event, and so he didn’t want to intrude on their planning, but there was never any harm in listening.

Despite this, though, he doesn't see any crowds of people dispersing or filing in through Yumenosaki's main entrance. Either the event was still going, or what he was hearing was simply an enthusiastic afterparty. He's a little curious about the festivities, but it isn't his place to barge in on something he's not involved in. Tsumugi exhales, warm air curling out from beneath his scarf, and continues to make his way towards the main entrance. He makes a mental note to bring his mittens with him the next day, as his pockets aren't exactly cutting it.

He isn't alone at the school gates.

 

* * *

 

_It is taking longer than normal for the sakura to bloom._

_The trees were just as barren as the entrance ceremony a few weeks prior, and he doesn’t think it's a good sign. Something is holding back the seasons from changing, from new life, from progress. Yumenosaki's spacious grounds are the same as they were when the school year ended: empty, and cold. He can see them from his seat, every time he looks out the window, and something about the lack of color is stirring a strange anxiety within him. This was a sign of something to come—and who was he not to trust the supernatural when he saw it plain as day in front of him. He resolves to dig a few special charms out of his bedside drawer, ones he saves for situations like these, and hope that whatever is about to bloom passes over him without a thought. He has had enough calamitous change to satisfy a lifetime, he thinks._

_"It's wonderful to see you back at school, Eichi-kun,"_   _he beams, setting his bag down on his desk and pulling out his chair, one day in early April. "To be honest, I was getting a bit worried. Your health must be getting better now, then?"_

_They are alone in the classroom. Everyone else has gone to lunch, or hasn't bothered to show up to class at all. It annoyed him, deep down, how many of his fellow students could care less about their studies, but it wasn't like he could convince them otherwise._

_Eichi smiles back at him, more subdued and almost businesslike. A smile was better than nothing at all, though, he tells himself. "Hello there, Tsumugi. Don't tell me you came back here just for me? Surely, you must have lunch plans with someone else."_

_Tsumugi shakes his head. "Not really. I mean, I was going to try and visit Natsume-ch—" he pauses, for a moment. "Natsume-kun, but he tends to get angry with me whenever I see him… And don't say things like that, Eichi-kun! I passed by the infirmary this morning and saw you there, so I wanted to see how you were doing today."_

_Eichi doesn't say anything at that._

_He continues. "We're friends, after all. Did you want to have lunch with me? We could go to the garden terrace, if you'd like."_

_Despite the warmth of spring starting to creep up on them, it is unusually brisk that day. There is the chance that the weather had caused his illness to bear down on him, more than usual. Truth be told, Tsumugi wasn't exactly sure how Eichi's illness worked. Eichi never told him more than necessary, and it certainly wasn't his place to pry. If Eichi wanted to tell him, he would._

_His companion chuckles, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, but it quickly morphs into a cough. It is silenced curtly. "Thank you, Tsumugi—I appreciate it. I do have plans to meet with Hasumi-kun in the Student Council office, though. Perhaps another time?"_

_There isn’t much else he can do but nod. He doesn’t mind._

_Really, he doesn’t._

_(Outside the classroom window, there is a sea of pink. It's hard to discern anything beyond that without his glasses.)_

* * *

 

Of all people, Eichi is hovering at the gates. He thinks it's Eichi, at least—Tsumugi pauses to wipe off his glasses on his uniform blazer, just to be safe—and yes, the figure standing before him is definitely Tenshouin Eichi. He stands near a streetlight, encircled in a yellow glow, and it makes Tsumugi think of a stage he would rather not remember. His pale hair is practically glowing in the moonlight, a stark beacon in the navy darkness surrounding them. As he approaches, Eichi remains firmly planted in his spot, gazing out into the streets that lay just outside of the school grounds. Tsumugi is a quiet person, sure, but Eichi must be deep in thought about something to not hear his footsteps. He doesn't want to startle him, so perhaps he'll pretend he just saw him right then…

"Hmm? Oh, Eichi-kun! What're you doing out here, all by yourself?"

Tsumugi knows exactly why Eichi is here (that is, at school, and it's because of the Starry Night Festival) but he doesn’t know why Eichi is  _here._  People like Eichi do not stand around outside in freezing temperatures, for any reason. People like Eichi have others to look out for them; escorts and chauffeurs and servants who could be summoned at the snap of a finger. People like Eichi have countless people that constantly stand around them, to protect and support and follow every command. People like Eichi have dozens vying for something: attention, money, popularity, a glimmer of talent, or even something as simple as acknowledgement.

(Tsumugi would know.)

"…Tsumugi," Eichi turns toward him, not moving from his spotlight. He doesn't look terribly surprised to see him, but that may simply be reflective of the weariness that's showing on his face. "It's certainly like you to approach me so casually and just start talking."

That certainly isn't the response he was expecting, either. Had he possibly annoyed Eichi, just by calling out to him? "W-was I not supposed to?"

Well, at least he has an out if things get too strained. For now, he walks up to Eichi's left side, and leans up against part of the wall that is still shrouded in darkness.

Eichi somehow looks even more exasperated, just for a second, before he releases his tension with a sigh. "...I’m not saying you  _can’t._ I'm waiting for my ride, to answer your question. I must admit, I'm not feeling that great."

How long had it been, since they last had a conversation about this? It had always been a difficult topic to avoid, with the way Eichi's illness dominated his life, and even more so with how relevant it was to their work. Every cough had the potential to be the beginning of the end—the catalyst that could leave their grand story without a protagonist. Tsumugi could never help his concern, no matter how many times Eichi had dismissed him or had to be dismissed himself. Deep inside him, the worry still lingers, and simply hearing about Eichi's struggles is enough for it to push its way to the surface.

"You always do seem a bit worse for wear, once winter comes," he starts, slowly, to get a feel of how he should tread next. Eichi bares his heart on his sleeve more than he probably thinks he does, Tsumugi has learned, and the expression he's donning right now reads as strangely… vulnerable? "Make sure you take good care of yourself."

There's something more, something that he has meant to say for a while, but has never found the right time to do so. They're alone, Eichi has lowered his guard, just a little (he is never truly defenseless, not that Tsumugi has ever seen), is worn out and is possibly sick. It's as good a time as he is likely to ever get.

"…Live a long life, alright?"

Eichi blinks at him in silence. The cold must be addling his brain, as it takes him a second to formulate a response. What comes out is nothing short of mundane.

"Got it,"  _Ah,_  it dawns on Tsumugi quicker than he would have liked,  _he's heard that a thousand times before._  Part of him wishes he could immediately rewind time, cast a spell so that the words never left the recesses of his heart, but he's had to come to terms with the fact that he will never possess that sort of magic. Another thought comes to him, something along the lines of  _that doesn’t mean anything to him, not coming from you_ , but he expels it before it can fester.

"What are  _you_  doing here, anyways? I can’t even begin to think of a reason you would stay at school so late."

"Cheering you on at the live, of course!" It's a blatant lie, but Tsumugi relishes in it anyways.

"I see," Eichi lowers his gaze, not even bothering to suppress his sigh. "T-thanks. That makes me really happy, Tsumugi."

If Tsumugi didn’t know any better, he would have taken that as sincere. There's a part of him that wants to, anyways, but he knows that fooling himself won't do him any good. He'd gone long enough hiding behind the curtain, not wanting to ruin the veneer. Those days have long since passed, doused in flame and evaporated into smoke with the contract that bound their relationship. There's no use in pretending, so he doesn't.

"Oh, no," he tries to buffer his words with a laugh, but it comes out awkward and stunted. "That was an exaggeration. I was helping Natsume-kun with an experiment, that's all. We needed to test out some chemicals before we use them for any performances, now that it's gotten so cold."

Eichi raises an eyebrow at him. "Switch is truly a strange unit, huh…" He hums inwardly, staring up at the cloudy sky. The snowfall hasn't started yet. "You know, Tsumugi, I think you would do just fine as an orthodox idol. Without all those weird things that Switch does. You don’t need to go out of your way to put up with all of Sakasaki-kun's mysticism." There's a bitterness in Eichi's voice. Tsumugi cannot pin down exactly where it comes from.

"Well, I'd like to let Natsume-kun and Sora-kun be free to do what they want. They're kids, after all," Much different from the two of them—even though Natsume had been dragged into the war, just on the other side of the invisible line in the sand. "Though, I  _am_  more used to doing things the traditional way, I suppose. But I think this is fun, too."

Being in Switch is exciting—fulfilling, in a way that Tsumugi thought he knew before. They've had their fair share of bumps in the road, but so has every other unit in the school, surely. Tsumugi feels like he has a clear purpose in Switch, that they can truly do good for others. And if accomplishing that means Natsume needs to perform his personal brand of alchemy every now and again, then so be it.

"Hmm…" Eichi's pitch bends downward slightly, as if he's doubtful or disagrees, but doesn't exactly know where to start picking Tsumugi's words apart. He lets out a sigh instead. "You know what, just forget it. I don't have the right to tell you what to do anyways."

He can't help the laugh that escapes from him. "You must be really exhausted, Eichi-kun. I feel like you get melodramatic sometimes just to get other people to comfort you."

Eichi stares down at the ground now, at some indiscernible spot by his shoes. "Do I…?" He pauses, likely to rewind through his actions in his mind, searching for a scrap of evidence to support his denial.

Tsumugi can wait.

"I… I suppose I never noticed," Concession is rare, coming from Eichi. Of course, he has to save face, qualify any possibility of a shortcoming: "I'm not  _that_  spoiled, am I?"

There are several options Tsumugi has available to him. A voice in his head (that sounds strangely like Natsume, if he pays close attention) is goading him to say it outright— _I'm afraid so, Eichi-kun, you know I wouldn't lie to you_ —smiling all the while, but he has to shoot it down. He could stay silent, let Eichi work through his memories some more, and wait for the realization to settle into his face; not confirming nor denying it would somehow be worse, though, and he's not vindictive (or confident) enough of a person to go through with it. It is obvious to him that Eichi's not in the best headspace at the moment, with all this vague dismissiveness and bitterness and just—exhaustion. So, he decides on something close to earnestness, and the words that leave him sound like something he would have said a year ago.

Wet snowflakes start to cloud his lenses.

"It's fine if you do it with me," he begins, taking his glasses off before his vision is completely snowed over. The snowflakes land on his exposed eyelashes, instead. "You'll break if you always stand on your own, so please try and rely on others occasionally."

His surroundings have been painted over with a thick gloss, edges softening and blurring into muddled colors. The streetlight right above Eichi is now casting a halo of light around his head, his expression nearly unreadable in the evening dark.

"…Everything is going to be okay, Eichi-kun. That winter is past us, now—there's nothing but happiness lying ahead of us… at least, that's what I believe,"

Last Christmas, he had thought of visiting Eichi in the hospital.

"He who believes shall be saved. Santa will bring presents to all children, while they're sleeping warmly in their beds."

He never went.

Even without his glasses on, he can see the smile bloom onto Eichi's face, as radiant and angelic as ever. Something within him stirs, knowing that he said exactly what Eichi needed to hear, for once. It's a feeling he didn’t think would return to him, not in this life.

"You're as boring as ever, Tsumugi, but sometimes you say just the right thing," Eichi laugh is genuine, and warm. An expensive-looking car pulls up to the sidewalk, whisper-quiet, and Tsumugi hears the soft click of its doors unlocking. Eichi steps out of his pillar of light, turning directly toward him, back to the vehicle.

"That's why I liked you."

Tsumugi rubs his lenses on the corner of his uniform blazer, and slides them back on his face. The warmth inside him has dissipated a little bit—

but then again, it's snowing.

"'Liked', in the past tense?" he whines, to obfuscate whatever disappointment he has left. "…It looks like your ride is here, Eichi-kun. I'll be on my way, then."

He almost leaves, but Eichi always must be the conductor, and only at his word may the conversation truly be over.

"Thank you, Tsumugi. Talking helped keep my temperature up," As he speaks, his chauffer steps out from the driver-side door and makes her way to the opposite side of the car. "Even now, you always go up to people, and let them lean on you so they don't break." The woman opens his door, and Eichi sits down on the (presumably heated) leather seat.

"I've always respected that about you. I wish I could have done the same."

Unfortunately, it seems like there is something lingering in Tsumugi's heart, as whatever it is twists and clutches him. He chokes it down with a smile. "…Goodnight, Eichi-kun."

Eichi offers him a wave, the door is shut, and that is that.

 Tsumugi prays he can still make the bus.

 

* * *

 

_Their last stage is bright, brilliant, like a star on the verge of explosion._

_And yet, Tsumugi has never felt more hollow in his life; he thought he'd hit that point by now, with all the miserable experiences he's gone through, but he supposes whoever has been out to get him this whole time isn't quite done yet._

_What was it that followed, after the death of a star? It's on the tip of his tongue, but they're not supposed to speak during a live as important as this. He said it himself, a few minutes earlier, and he isn't about to double back on his own verbal contract. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Eichi stealing glances at him, his eyes clouded with something akin to worry. (Not for him. Never for him. He needs to keep telling himself that, or else he won't be able to cauterize the wound later.) This is Eichi's stage—rather, Eichi and Hibiki-kun's stage—and there is no place for him outside of the shadows._

_He always thought there had been more. He had been painfully wrong._

_It's hard for him to see, but his cherry-red hair stands out in any crowd. Of course he would be here, surely to support his brethren in his final hour. The rest of the Oddballs are here too, it seems, to witness the beginning of the end. He knows he needs to confront him, once this is all over, but he has no idea what he'll even say. Bile bites at his throat, but he has to keep singing. He doesn’t know what will happen once he stops._

_It's unusually cold for autumn._

**Author's Note:**

> This was honestly really fun to write--I've never properly written Tsumugi before, so I hope I did his inner thoughts justice! In case you couldn't tell, this fic is set during the fine StarFes event, specifically in child birth - 3. Thank you so much @tennplate for the wonderful prompt!
> 
> Say hi to me on twitter!: @harmonyleaf


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